


A Favorite of Lirra

by handlewithkara



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alien Culture, Alien Mythology/Religion, Established Relationship, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-08
Updated: 2017-04-08
Packaged: 2018-10-16 10:47:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10569732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/handlewithkara/pseuds/handlewithkara
Summary: Mon-El has never been the religious type.





	

_And so Rao trapped and jailed the other gods, except for Yuna, his mate. Displeased with their fate the gods bade their time. Then one day Dalos searched the heavens and he showed them a new world. But it was a dark and hostile. Modur was the first to travel there and he tamed the land, he slew all the feral beasts that populated the land and seas. After him, Lirra followed. Everywhere she stepped flowers bloomed and with a wave of her hand, she turned the skies purple._   
Origin myth of Daxam

Mon-El had never been a very religious person. And he'd always nursed the sneaking suspicion that most of his peers felt the same. That gods really were mostly an excuse for lavish festivities. After all, who didn't love a good party? So why not one to honor the gods, whether they were real or not? Even most of their scholars agreed that even if Rao had been real at one time, he'd been real on Krypton, not with them. 

On Daxam, they were the stragglers, the forgotten ones, so it was befitting that they worshiped what the Kryptonians considered the lesser gods. He remembered that he raised an eyebrow or two when he pledged himself to Lirra, rather than Mordur. Thinking back now, he wasn't really sure what had propelled him. Maybe some trace of rebelliousness, but then again, it was the time and he'd been convinced that Lirra had more effect on all people's everyday life anyway. After all, she was the goddess of beauty, love, sex, fertility, music, dance and pretty much everything that made life worth living. 

Besides, as a prince, whom life gave everything one could ever need, why would one ever need a god? One was as good as the other, so why not choose the one that seemed the most fun. Back then, he couldn't even wrap his head around the idea that he might ever lose anything more meaningful than a glove or a holo container. If you never feared losing, why would you ever feel the need for gratitude. 

Now, in a life far away from being princely, he looked at the gorgeous creature next to him, who loved and protected him and forgave him when he fucked up and thought that maybe he must have done something right to get into the good graces of somebody or some thing. Mon-El, traitor prince of Daxam, personal chef and bed warmer to Kara Zor-El, blessed by Lirra, he could get used to those titles. Because now things had been taken and things had been given to him. Things he had never asked for or expected. 

And suddenly, “He was loved, he maybe didn't deserve it, but he was loved” seemed like a satisfying epitaph under a life well lived. 

* 

“Hey, Kara, how much is 50 million dollars?”

Kara sputtered and nearly hit her head she she jerked out of the cupboard she had been cleaning. “Wait what?”

“50 million dollars, is that a lot? Would I have to work for that for a long time?” Mon-El pondered while studying the offer the Lalloran had sent him. 

“Well, maybe a while. What do you need 50 million dollars for?”

“Oh nothing,” Mon-El said and closed the offer. He realized his behavior had to be adding quickly. “Just a little something for myself. I ran into a Lalloran at the bar. Do you think I can afford it? Most of it is for shipping.” 

“Let me see.”

She swooshed over, next to him on the couch and activated the holographic image. Mon-El felt a bit embarrassed, cheesy even, but at least he could tell she knew immediately what she was looking at. 

“You know,” she said. “We have a mural of her up at the Fortress.”

“You do?”

* 

The mural was huge, wall spanning. It showed the insignia of the four Guilds of Krypton under the rays of Rao. Hesitantly Mon-El ran his hand over Lirra's representation. 

“So?” Kara asked. 

“Well on Daxam she definitely has bigger...”

“Why am I not surprised,” Kara interrupted him hurriedly. 

“She looks different,” he said. And she did. 

This _Lorra_ of Krypton, she looked about what one would expect a Kryptonian deity to look like. Flawless, composed, dutiful. The Lirra he had grown up with was bodacious, lively, always portrayed with a smirk, a wink or even a scowl. A goddess with a personality, a sense of humor. Not some cold ideal to look up to, but an entity who mingled with her people, who cared about their needs, who caused mischief, punished the heretics, was pleased by lavish festivities and was down to fuck with and bestow favors on subjects that caught her fancy. 

“On Krypton, most people thought it was pretty…, ” Kara started. 

“Barbaric?” 

“...illogical that anybody would be worshipping the guild gods. Why would one do that when Rao...”

“Is clearly more powerful than any of them?” Mon-El paused. “Even on Daxam we thought that Rao's power had no equal.”

He looked up, his gaze seeking the image of the all seeing eye with the rays of sunlight emanating from it. “I guess on Daxam we always felt that he was a bit of an asshole.”

“Mon-El!” Kara slapped him lightly on the arm and he laughed. 

Daxam and Krypton. Krypton and Daxam. Like the story of an older and a younger brother. With Krypton as Rao's favored child. 

“Let's not fight over the beliefs of dead worlds.”

“We are not fighting.”

“I know,” he said and rested his forehead against hers. His mood went more somber and looked on the image of Lorra/Lirra one last time. “Look, it was a dumb idea anyway. Besides, she couldn't have been much of a goddess if she didn't even protect her own planet.”

“The plans of Rao are often unknowable.” Kara said defiantly. 

Mon-El closed his eyes. What she said made sense from her point of view, but on Daxam, gods weren't worshipped as symbols or abstract ideals. On Daxam, gods were close. You bribed them. You gave them worship and sacrifice and festivities and in turn they were supposed to give you favor. 

Without favors, what reason was there to believe? 

 

*

It was a lot harder to believe that there was no Lirra and that she didn't love him, when he was rolling around in bed with his beautiful Kryptonian siren. Kara smiled at him and in this moment was convinced that she couldn't be real. How could a being like her be just the outcome of chance, of the mixing of genes, chemistry and yellow sun? Any why, by all that was holy, did she want to be his mate, at the exclusion of all others? 

Leaning in, he started to kiss down her throat and his hand caught right breast and cupped it. This was real. The way she tasted, the way she smelled, the way she moved under him. The little squeaking sounds she made when he hummed softly against her skin, right above where her pulse was beating. Regardless of there this came from, these feelings, this perfection, it was meant to be embraced. 

Besides, whether there was a Lirra or not, her commandment to honor her by giving pleasure to the ones you loved was probably a worthwhile sentiment, regardless of whether a goddess was watching or not. 

At the very least, Mon-El pondered as he kissed and licked his way down Kara's belly, the training he had received at the temple was never gonna go to waste. 

* 

Mon-El's heart ached as Kara soared high above him, off towards the ocean to fight a beast that looked like an oversized crossbreed of a Drang and a Rrrork. There was nothing he could do. He had no flight. He had no laser sight. He was useless. 

Yes, Kara could take of herself, but it still hurt that he couldn't be there with her, in battle. 

His heart went out to her and for the first time he truly felt why one would _want_ to be faithful. Why one would want to believe that there were higher powers to plead with, to help one when one was truly helpless. 

When he was a prince, most would probably have judged him as a reasonably devoted follower. He attended the rituals. He spent lavishly on the festivities. He lost his virginity to the temple matriarch as was custom. He followed Lirra's guidance to be an unselfish and unresentful lover, for the most part. He might not have _believed_ in anything he was doing, but he had done them, out of obedience. 

And now? Now he had thrown away his home, his family, his old self to be with the person he had fallen in love with. Maybe that was the kind of thing that would please a Lirra. Or that would at least appeal to her sense of irony. Maybe that would be enough to make her look kindly upon him. 

Mon-El balled his fists, his eyes still transfixed on his Kara, who was about to dive fists first into the maw of an ancient sea monster. Inwardly he recited the ancient words, repeated so often, so casually, as a greeting or a toast and for the first time, he actually meant them. 

“Lirra, keep her from all harm.”

“Goddess, lead her back to me.”


End file.
